


Scars

by lyricalaphasia



Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 12:50:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7893100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricalaphasia/pseuds/lyricalaphasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night before her trial, she has a visitor. Tomorrow, he'll have to send her to the outer reaches of the galaxy, but tonight, he's all she has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

The day before her trial, she refuses the Council's quarters and rents a room in a quiet slum, a hole in the wall with a minimal bed and no other furniture. She sits there all evening, doesn't eat, splashes water on her face every once in a while, and tries not to feel angry tonight. She tries to feel nothing.

There's a knock at the door. It's probably the landlord, but she grabs her lightsaber before opening it, just in case.

Weapon in hand, she opens the door. It's not the landlord.

“What are you doing here?”

Kavar looks at the saber in her hand. “I'm not here on behalf of the Council,” he said. “Can I come in?”

She shakes her head, but steps aside so he can step inside. Rainwater drips in puddles behind him.

“You're soaked,” she mutters. “Give me your robe and take off your boots.”

He does, and she puts his robe on the single hook on the wall.

“What are you doing here, Kavar?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“You'll see me tomorrow.”

He reaches out to push back a lock of her hair. She flinches and pulls away. There's a look in his eyes she hasn't seen before, and she thinks she's hurt him. Flushing red, she goes to sit on the hard mattress furnishing her room, and he sits beside her.

“They're going to exile me,” she says.

“Yes.”

She scoffs. “It doesn't matter what they do. It doesn't change... what's out there.”

Kavar strokes her hair, and this time, she shuts her eyes and leans her head against his damp shoulder. He smells like home, like the warmth of the Dantooine sun on golden plains. She remembers being young, running and sparring with her classmates and trainers. She remembers a time when she cared about things that didn't matter, and how beautiful it was to be so frivolous.

When she opens her eyes again, she's back in the dark, and she sits straight up.

“There's a lot of darkness in the galaxy,” she says. “And there are things beyond that, things I can barely hold in my mind because I can't understand them, and they're all... they're all terrible.”

She looks at him, and he doesn't understand. Though the questions in his deep blue eyes go unspoken, they frustrate her.

“You would know what I'm talking about if you were there. If you'd just... why weren't you there?”

Of course, she already knows the answer to this, but she wants him to hurt a little more. He'll still never feel what she feels. He'll never feel Malachor bore through his brain. He'll never have the same echoes inside of him.

“I wanted you with me,” she says.

Kavar gathers her, and she tilts her head up so her mouth can meet his. Warmth fills her as his hands hold her at the waist, sliding beneath the edge of her shirt to touch her bare skin. As they reach around to her back, he suddenly stops, turns her so he can look at the scar he feels crossing her spine.

“I've got a lot of those,” she says. 

His finger traces the scar, jagged and recent enough to be rough. “Show me.”


End file.
